Paint It Black
by Loser Anthem
Summary: Syaoran and Sakura were best friends as kids but High school tore them apart. Now they’re separated by popularity. She’s a prep, he’s a punk. Fate means to reunite them. Includes prank wars, parties, snowball fights and chocolate hearts
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Paint it Black

**Disclaimer:**:Blows hair out of face: I am not the creator of Card Captor Sakura, merely borrowing the characters and bending them to my will and fit this cliché plot. This piece of fiction is made purely for the enjoyment of writing it and for readers who choose to read it. No money is to be made of it.

**Rating:** T (13+). This fanfiction is suitable for teenagers, 13 years and older. With some violence, minor coarse language and minor suggestive adult themes. Role on the good times, baby!

**Warning: **Apart from the fact that this has to be the most **cliché** plot out there in the universe of fiction, there will be **course language**, some serious **OOC** due to the fact that I'm new at this fandom (and I want them to act like this, so nyah!). There will also be some mild sexual references (you know, the usual kissing, cuddling, boys shoving girls up against walls in bouts of lust and all that lovely stuff).

**Summary: **Syaoran and Sakura were best friends as kids but High school tore them apart. Now they're separated by popularity. She's a prep, he's a punk. Fate means to reunite them. Includes prank wars, parties, snowball fights and chocolate hearts

**Genre: **A little bit of everything, I'm afraid. There's **romance**, the usual feelings, kissing, cuddles, the fuzzies, and all the good stuff. There's **Drama**, pranks of the childish kind, dates that go horribly wrong, and generally dramaness. There's also **humour**, cynicism, sarcasm, and general snarkiness. I will probably throw in a bit of **angst **because I like being cruel to the characters. Ahem, moving on.

**Author's Note:** Hello, and welcome to my very first fanfic, let alone in the Card captor Sakura fandom. I hope you enjoy it and please keep in mind that i'm new to all of this and i am British and use British spelling.

Enjoy!

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**Prologue**

**What we were**

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I can't for the life of me pinpoint the exact time it all started. Well, you don't, do you? Not at first. Especially when it happened when I was six years old, nothing more then a midget with impossibly wide green eyes and knobbly knees.

Maybe it was just fun for me to say 'I like so and so'. All the other girls were doing it so I guess I wanted in on the fun. I don't know why I even picked Li Syaoran. It could be because even at six years of age he was termed 'cool'. He was the first in our year to ride his sporty black bike without stabilisers. He could blow the biggest bubble with his bubble gum, smoked chocolate cigarettes in the playground and had an eight ball tattoo transfer on his bicep that he got from a pack of sweets.

The first time we talked, or I should rather say the first time he noticed me, was when it was lunchtime recess and the biggest bully of the school had kidnapped my Barbie doll and was holding her to ransom. Now, everyone knows you don't get in between a girl and her dolls; it's just plain stupidity.

So there we were, the bully gleefully swinging Barbie by her _hair _above my head and I, being the little midget that I was, was jumping up and down swinging my arms like a windmill trying to rescue her from his sweaty clutches. Now, I would like to state for the record that I wasn't myself at the time. I'm a very peaceful 'violence-won't-solve-anything' kind of girl. But I was out of my mind with frustration (I had spent the whole morning braiding her hair and she was being pulled around like a rag doll).

Without even thinking, my fist curled and shot out and hit him in the groin. The bully doubled over in pain, going cross-eyes as he clutched at himself. Letting out a girly squeak, he relinquished his hold on Barbie and I made a mad dash to catch her before she hit the muddy ground.

My moment of triumph was short lived when a teacher dragged me off to the principal's office (ever notice that the teachers are never around when you want them to, and yet they are there when you do something stupid? Yeah, you too?). But before I disappeared back into the school, I caught sight of Syaoran and his band of friends all cheering for me. I met Syaoran's eyes and he smiled at me and mouthed 'That was so cool'.

It wasn't 'heart-pounding, Dear-God-he-just-talked-to-me' sort of thing. I didn't really feel anything but a rush of pride and triumph at what I did. Syaoran thought I was cool. It was more to do with the fact I wanted to be friends with him, unlike all the other girls of my class who wanted to be his girlfriend.

Didn't they care bout cooties?

I wanted to be the one he gave rides to on his bike. I wanted to be the one that he high-fived when he scored a goal in sports, I wanted to chase him around the playground and have him chase me back. I wanted him to stick up for me when the bullies ever bothered me again. I wanted him to scrunch his nose up at the other girls and swing his arm around my shoulders. I wanted a best friend.

After what seemed like forever and my ears still ringing from the lecture I got from the principle, I was allowed back to class. After stammering an apology for being late, I searched for an empty seat and, as if God had answer my call, there was an empty seat next to none other than Syaoran. He smiled widely as our eyes met and patted the empty seat.

My heart was hammering in my chest as I made my way to the seat, painfully aware that all the girls were burning holes in my back with their death glares. I kept my head held high, ignoring them the best I can. Once the teacher carried on with the tedious lecture on the five times tables, Syaoran lent over to me and whispered "You're not bad for a girl."

I think that was the best compliment anyone has ever said to me.

After that, we were joined at the hip. I was initiated into Syaoran's little group of friends as the 'honorary girl'. There was Eriol with his Harry Potter glasses and a wicked sense of humour, Takashi and his incredible imagination and a knack for making little things seem colossal. There were others that were in the group but we were the four in the very centre and it was Syaoran and me that was the very power base. I had finally claimed the title of Syaoran's best friend.

It seemed I was on top of the world. I had finally found my place in life, found someone who was the other half of my soul. We had burping contests, Syaoran taught me how to ride a bike (after many yelling fits and crashes into people's gardens), I went through the phase of finding swear words very interesting and had the need to use them in every single sentence. My family have emotional scars through that little episode; they don't like talking about it.

Getting older brought new twists and turns. Life, as it most often does, change. Gym was once my favourite subject until it became a humiliation for me. Gym was now a place where people smelled, they sweated and dragged you kicking and screaming into the communal shower where the P.E. teachers stood over you like prison wardens.

Instead of sports, I found myself taking a liking to creative writing. It was just something about being able to create a whole new world with new characters that I got addicted to. Syaoran took the same liking to art. He was always with a sketchbook and pencils. I would often beg him to illustrate my stories and draw my characters. It was a partnership and I promised him if I got published, only he was allowed to illustrate my books. Syaoran just laughed and ruffled my hair.

While my fear of cooties often stopped me from even thinking of getting cuddly with a boy, I had my first crush in my fifth year. His name was Laurie. He didn't belong to our group of friends, which put me on my guard at the start, but he was in my class and when I turned up for my first lesson, I found him at my desk with daisies (unfortunately, the little fragile petals were bent because boys never seem to understand that you had to treat flowers gently). And he told me he liked my hair clips. We were immediately branded boyfriend and girlfriend. Syaoran seemed a little miffed about Laurie. The first time they met, Syaoran didn't say much and he was sizing him up. I bit my lip and hoped that he didn't go for Laurie's throat.

Syaoran looked at my worried expression and his frown slowly disappeared to a soft smile. He slung his arm around my shoulder and said, "Just as long as he doesn't take my place, it's fine. But that doesn't mean I have to watch you smooch him, got it?" My face was red as a tomato. I hadn't thought of that. Thinking about it made me want to throw up my peanut butter and jelly sandwiches I ate for lunch.

Syaoran, on the other hand, was shy with girls. It wasn't like no girl wanted to be his girlfriend, quite the contrary. Every single girl in our class and in others tended to write his name in large pink hearts in their diaries. Syaoran just didn't seem interested in any of them. I was the only girl that he spoke full sentences to. He seemed content on being my bodyguard, making sure Laurie kept his hands to himself.

Laurie was the first guy I held hands with, walking home from school. I didn't know what to do with my fingers, was I supposed to interlace them with his or did I hold his hand like I held me parent's hand? It was very strange; his hand was hot and sweaty. We didn't speak, too embarrassed and red in the face. The girls were all jealous because no one had held a guy's hand so I was the most experienced (until two days later and this girl called Carrie kissed Eriol on the cheek for a game of truth or dare).

Laurie told me he loved me when we were at the school's Christmas party. He gave me a plastic ring that you can get from the slot machines. I treasured it more than anything.

Exactly two days after the party, I caught him holding hands with Carrie. He wanted the ring back but I told him that I had thrown it away but what I really did was to stand on it and listen to the satisfying crunch.

Of course, Syaoran didn't take too kindly to his best friend being cheated on. The next day Laurie was sporting two black eyes and a huge gap in his front teeth.

I couldn't have been more proud of my best friend.

But, like I said before, times change.

I thought we were inseparable, not even a hurricane could tear us apart. But it seemed something worse happened to us.

High school.

The first two years were a living nightmare for both Syaoran and me. My mother, a truly special woman, died of cancer. My whole world came crashing around my ears. Like all young girls, my mother was perfect in my eyes. She was so beautiful and kind, she was even a model. She left behind her a huge hole that would never be filled up. My father, Fujitaka, shut himself up in his study for hours on end. My brother, Touya, seemed to channel his grief through anger. I, on the other hand, found myself pulling away from everyone, including Syaoran. Through all of the shock and the loneliness, my mind persuaded me to not share any of it with Syaoran, that it was too big to have to burden him with.

Loosing such a big female role model in my life made me realise I didn't have many female friends. I sought those female friends in a girl called Tomoyo and her own group of friends like Rika, Meiling, Naoko and Chiharu. They were the pretty popular girls and I was uncertain whether I would fit in but they were so nice and very kind and I was initiated into the group easily. My own popularity jumped up and when I hit puberty and I was noticed by the opposite sex. Not as a girl who could flip Pringles in her mouth without it braking but as a girl who you go on dates with and kiss.

I was still Syaoran's best friend and I tried to explain to him about my need to be friends with other girls but Syaoran couldn't understand. He was always a follower of the whole non-conformist attitude and it was like a betrayal that I would even think of being friends with the likes of them. And the attention I got from the jocks was perhaps too unbearable for him.

Our friendship became strained. We were now gravitating to new circles of friends, me with the preps and Syaoran mingling with the punks/goth/skaters. We hardly talked to each other at school, social hierarchy making it practically impossible and at home it was even worse. We didn't phone each other, didn't text, and didn't meet up at the park or the café. It was like we were complete strangers.

The last nail in the coffin, so to speak, was when I heard from a secondary source that Syaoran had been kicked out of his own house and was living with Eriol. I knew things between him and his mother were never what a mother-son bond should be like. She was incredibly strict and was always seeking true perfection in her son. I had only been over his mansion-sized house once, and that was enough for me. The woman didn't even acknowledged my presences and she had criticised Syaoran on every little detail. He would always come over my house and he was like a second son to Fujitaka.

But he didn't tell me anything, didn't phone to ask to stay at my house which he knows he didn't even have to ask, it would have been a yes anyway. My anger overtook me, hurt that he snubbed me for Eriol, no offence to Eriol or anything but it was the best friend's duty to help out.

The next day I found him at school standing by the tree in the school yard waiting for the bell to ring for the start of lessons with his punk friends. A cigarette dangled from his hand and my step faltered. Since when did he start smoking…?

The group went silent as I approached Syaoran, who stood leaning against the trunk and staring at me with a blank look.

"Syaoran," I said in a way of greeting.

He inclined his head, and I pursued my lips.

He was so cold…

"Why didn't you phone me about what happened? You know there's room at my house. My dad would have said yes." I tried to keep the indignant hurt out of my voice, but I failed miserably.

He took a drag of his cigarette and I wrinkled my nose. "Since when do I answer to you?" He asked. His buddies snickered and I shot them all a glare.

"You know I didn't mean it like that." I hissed. What the hell was wrong with him? "Since when did we keep secrets from each other?"

"Since you decided to ditch me for the preps. Since you joined the ranks of sheep. Does it make you feel good to walk all over other students? Does it make you feel superior?" His eyes, once so affectionate and warm, were like shards of ice that cut me to the bone.

"I never ditched you. I've always wanted us to stay as best friends, but you couldn't handle that I wanted other friends. And what the hell are you talking about walking all over people? I have never done that to anybody!" I yelled defensively. How stereotypical of him to lump me with those few populars that sneer at people. Not the entire popular clique did that.

"Keep telling yourself that, princess." He sneered. I cringed at his harsh tone. "I only ask for help from friends."

My blood ran ice cold. "What are you trying to say?"

He stepped away from the tree until we were inches apart. "I'm saying that you should get lost. You're not wanted here. You'll never be wanted here. You turned you back on me, now I'm returning the favour. So why don't you run along with your preppy friends, I'm sick of the sight of you." He turned and walked away, his friends following and slapping his back in some sort of macho congratulation ritual. I could hear their laughter ringing in my ears.

He never once looked back at me.

I felt like I had been sucker punched in the gut. My best friend, the one person that I cared the most about, hated me so much that he could barely look at me.

…How did it come to this…

The aching hurt was soon washed away by pure fury. I may have been guilty of befriending preps and letting our friendship slip but that was about it. His prejudice alienated him from seeing that Tomoyo and the girls were kind and nothing like the bimbo cheerleaders of our school. He made no effort on holding on to our friendship and his resentment and anger over his family issues had poisoned him and pushed me away.

That sweet, shy Syaoran was no longer. He was replaced by an arrogant punk who played girls like they were nothing more then pieces of meat. The best friend I used to know was long gone and I despised this new persona and wanted nothing to do with him anymore.

Tomoyo, being the sensitive reflective person that she is, knew immediately that something was wrong. I told her about my confrontation with Syaoran earlier that morning. She sighed and shook her head.

"It's one of those things, Sakura. Friends drift apart, make other friends. It's how life works. It's such a shame that you guys had to do it with explosive fireworks for an encore."

"I still can't believe he would say all of those things about me. It was like all those years of being friends were wiped from his memory. Like it meant nothing." I grumble, holding my head in my hands.

"It happens when friends get accepted into different social circles. It's like a law or something, to hate anyone who isn't apart of it. I know you don't like it," Tomoyo said as she caught sight of my scowl. "I don't like it either but we can't do anything about it. This type of hierarchy in schools all over the world has been here for centuries."

This little chat did not make me feel better. In fact, it just made me feel angrier. But what could I do? Syaoran was avoiding me like I had the plague or something, and to be honest, I didn't want to be near him. What he said wounded me to the point where I couldn't be healed, didn't want it to be healed.

So, after all that, I'm finally at the present. I'm Sakura Kinomoto, seventeen years old, one of the most popular girls attending Tomoeda High. I haven't spoken to Syaoran since our little spat three years ago. We pass each other in the hallways without so much as a glance. But this is my last year and something is going to change.

I can feel it.

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**To Be Continued...**

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Review, my dahlins!


	2. Blame it on Karma

**Title:** Paint it Black

**Disclaimer:**:Blows hair out of face: I am not the creator of Card Captor Sakura, merely borrowing the characters and bending them to my will and fit this cliché plot. This piece of fiction is made purely for the enjoyment of writing it and for readers who choose to read it. No money is to be made of it.

**Rating:** T (13+). This fanfiction is suitable for teenagers, 13 years and older. With some violence, minor coarse language and minor suggestive adult themes. Role on the good times, baby!

**Warning: **Apart from the fact that this has to be the most **cliché** plot out there in the universe of fiction, there will be **course language**, some serious **OOC** due to the fact that I'm new at this fandom (and I want them to act like this, so nyah!). There will also be some mild sexual references (you know, the usual kissing, cuddling, boys shoving girls up against walls in bouts of lust and all that lovely stuff).

**Summary: **Syaoran and Sakura were best friends as kids but High school tore them apart. Now they're separated by popularity. She's a prep, he's a punk. Fate means to reunite them. Includes prank wars, parties, snowball fights and chocolate hearts

**Genre: **A little bit of everything, I'm afraid. There's **romance**, the usual feelings, kissing, cuddles, the fuzzies, and all the good stuff. There's **Drama**, pranks of the childish kind, dates that go horribly wrong, and generally dramaness. There's also **humour**, cynicism, sarcasm, and general snarkiness. I will probably throw in a bit of **angst **because I like being cruel to the characters. Ahem, moving on.

**Author's Note: … … … … …**

**Narrator: **You will have to forgive the authoress for her lack of speech. She's so overwhelmed by all of your lovely reviews that she keeps mumbling incoherently and staring off into space. But she did write you all responses. Since you took the time to review, she figured it was polite to respond.

**The responses are posted at the end of chapter one.**

* * *

**Chapter one **

**Blame it on Karma**

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Of all the most horrific tortures in the entire world, early mornings had to be the worst. Who could possibly survive under such a blow as getting up at 7 o'clock in the morning and faced with the prospect of dragging yourself out of the comfort and warmth of your bed and spending eight hours in cold classrooms, eating toxic waste known as cafeteria food and learning things like tangents that you probably wouldn't use in real life anyway?

It just isn't fair, god dammit.

_Bee-bee-beep! Bee-bee-beep!_

And that, dear friends, is the sound of doom. Also known as the alarm clock. Beneath the mass of warm blankets, I attempted to resurface, my hair plastered across my face and obstructing my vision. I threw my arm out, after spectacularly failing at sorting out what is commonly known as bed-hair, and groped around my bedside table, knocking off a load of things that I hoped wasn't fragile, all in the name of silencing the beast. After a few moments my questing hand caught the annoying mechanical item and tried to find the button to shut it off.

No such luck.

My nerves begin to frazzle under the pressure. When after a few futile attempts to shut the damn thing up the alarm was still beeping and I growled and yanked the alarm, cord and all, beneath the covers with me, hoping to find the button with closer inspection.

_Bee-bee-beep! Bee-bee-be ---_

Thank the lord, it finally shut up. Now, where was I? Oh yes, the most important activity to any teenager.

Sleep…

A light rapping at the bedroom door sounded at what seemed only five minutes later and I pulled the covers down so only my eyes were seen. It opened to reveal a short girl with beautiful violet eyes, a warm smile and long silky raven black hair. Her smile widened at the sight of me still in bed.

I groaned at seeing Tomoyo and attempted to burrow back into the warmth and loose myself in the sanctuary of unconsciousness.

"Oh no, you don't" Tomoyo admonished as she yanked my blankets off of me and I rolled into a tight ball, cursing her with colourful words that would have made my father blush had he been at home. Thankfully he had gone to work early.

"Good morning to you, too!" Tomoyo greeted cheerfully. "And how are you this fine day?"

I answered her with a death glare of doom. It should be illegal to be that happy in the morning. It made one feel nauseous. Taking a look at the alarm clock that was left in a heap on the floor, I groaned at Tomoyo, "Why the hell are you up at seven in the morning? In fact, why the hell are you waking me up at seven?"

"Because you'd never get your lazy butt out of bed, dressed and to school on time if I didn't," Tomoyo returned with a cheeky grin. "Now go get ready for the first day of our final year and I'll make coffee to keep you awake through it. You look like the living dead, Hun."

"I feel like it too. I have no idea why they start school at this ungodly hour… no, scratch that. I know exactly why they do. They do it to punish us for being young and beautiful." I grumbled and finally peeled myself away from my mattress and made my way to my closet. Throwing the doors open, I began rooting around for something to wear that wasn't wrinkled or had any toothpaste stains on it.

"I wonder at all that pent up anger, Sakura. You're going to grow up a bitter old hag with only your cats to keep you company." Tomoyo managed to dodge the pillow that was aimed at her head as she ducked out of the room and ran down stairs laughing madly.

My bedroom was a motley place albeit somewhat disorganized. It was a loft space with a low slanted ceiling that rose up into a peak over the middle of the room. I had a Japanese style bed that was low to the floor and illuminated by three of the track lights that were fixed to the sloping roof above, casting the unmade black and red sheets in a muted orange glow. The walls were a nice crème colour that had a deep red accent wall that the headboard of the bed was against, contrasting nicely with the dark furniture.

Pulling on a clean tight white halter-top that showed off my small slender frame and a black and light blue quarter-length surfer board shorts. I checked myself in the mirror. I'm short for a seventeen year old, but I hoped the curves I did have would make up for it. Looking approvingly, I turned and grabbed a hairbrush to run through my shoulder length cinnamon coloured hair before pulling it up into a messy ponytail that had tendrils framing my face.

Falling to my knees, I began to shove the rest of my school supplies into my school bag, a rather beaten up old thing that had many badges and key chains hanging from it. I would buy a new one, but I was getting attached to it so I didn't bother.

Stumbling down the stairs fifteen minutes later, I followed the alluring scent of coffee from the kitchen. "Good as ever," I complimented, taking a sip, the light surge of energy warming through my veins. "I don't know if I'll ever find anyone else who can brew a cup of coffee the way you do _and_ pour it just the way I like it, lots of cream, no sugar."

Tomoyo laughed from her spot by the sink, rinsing out the mug she had used to fill herself a cup with. "Well, you've got your coffee and now you're dressed," she said, turning around as she shook her hands dry, "so let's get going. You don't want to be late on the first day back in the New Year!"

"You'd be surprised," I muttered as Tomoyo led the way to the front door. Tomoyo picked up her blue backpack from the spot she had left it and threw it over a shoulder, opening the door and stepping outside, slowly meandering down the driveway towards the main street. I soon came out with a pair of skates attached to my feet as I struggled with tying the laces while I rolled after Tomoyo. Not an easy feat, I can tell you.

We walked (I skated) down the empty sidewalk, past a row of sleepy townhouses that were still dark in the early morning.

"Do you think our last year will be the best?" Tomoyo asked, a thoughtful frown marring her clear perfect features.

I turned around so I was skating backwards facing her. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you always see those teen flicks about a group of students who are out to make their last year in school to be the best ever. You know, going out and partying, shop 'til you drop, cutting classes to go to the beach yadda yadda. Are we going to do stuff like that?"

I shrugged. "Who knows? I suppose we will definitely have to do something special. You know, to be remembered when we're gone and living the life of powerful successful women." We grinned at each other.

WHAM!

My back smacked into something quite solid, heard a muffled 'oof!' that wasn't my own and I was suddenly fumbling around the ground after a heavy impact, trying to find my bearings. Groaning in pain, I felt the hard ground beneath me and cursing the day sidewalks were invented in place of nice, soft dirt roads…

"Oh my god, Sakura are you all right?" I heard Tomoyo's concerned voice through my dizziness.

Glancing up, shielding my eyes against both the early morning sunlight, I tried to make out the form of what I had bumped into. My stomach clenched when I realized it was a person, who was now brushing himself off rather stiffly. Opening my mouth to apologize, I was cut off when the stranger spoke first. "Watch it, princess," a deep and slightly nasal voice whispered, though to my ears, it sounded more like a purr than a whisper.

I did a double take when I realized that pleasing lilt was coming from none other than Li Syaoran. Just as I was about to snort and give him an indignant display of coldness, I took a proper look at Syaoran, perhaps the only time I took to see what my childhood friend had become.

He simply took my breath away.

I had never seen such a devastatingly good-looking human being in all my existence. The vision I beheld was most _certainly_ nowhere near what I had been expecting to find. With mahogany brown hair falling in disarray over a pair of hauntingly beautiful oriental eyes of an unusual amber colour, the slender boy was amazingly gorgeous, sculpted out of pure hewn muscle, emphasised by a tight black t-shirt with the 'Misfits' band logo on the chest and a pair of baggy black jeans with different assortment of chains. Eyes wide with amazement, I had trouble convincing myself that this dark haired Adonis was the same guy who used to be the one I told all of my deepest secrets to and in the end cast me aside like a used toy. Then again, I noted how Syaoran's full red lips were locked in a tight frown and revaluated that prior statement. He had grown up to be an asshole. He was glaring condescendingly down at me; a cigarette was dangling from one hand.

Okay, ew. Seriously bad habit that ruins the whole image.

"You should watch it," I told him smartly, finally reacting to his earlier comments. "You know, to make sure that no one's coming hurtling towards you that you can't see."

"Just stay the hell out of my way." Syaoran replied as he sent me a disdainful look, before turning around and walking away with two other teenagers that I normally saw him hanging around with. One was undoubtedly Eriol with his blue-black hair that covered his dark eyes and the other was Kai, a tall guy who had the same lithe frame as Syaoran, with black emo-styled hair (long at the front, spiky at the back) and cobalt blue eyes and never spoke much.

When I realized they were walking away as though nothing had happened, I bristled, unable to keep my already short temper from snapping. "Hey Syaoran! Aren't you going to help a lady up?"

"I don't see a lady," was the reply, and he smirked back at me like the jerk he is, barely inclining his head in my direction. "Just some little kid that still needs training wheels on her skates."

That's nice. I'm feeling the love emanating from him. No, really!

"You moron, you can't have training wheels on skates!" I retorted as I pulled myself up and arranged my bag back over my shoulder. Syaoran and his cronies just laughed and disappeared around the corner. "God dammit!" I yelled my frustration.

Tomoyo came up behind me and patted my shoulder sympathetically. "I guess some things never change." Tomoyo sighed. "Even at seventeen you guys can't seem to be civil to each other."

"It's his fault, if he wasn't so damn confrontational we could just go about our ways happily. You know what would make this the best year ever?"

Tomoyo looked at me nervously, catching the wicked gleam in my eyes. "What?" she asked uncertainly.

"If a hole would open up in the ground and swallow the little git."

Tomoyo laughed softly. "Something tells me that the hole will come off worse than Syaoran."

* * *

The first day back was always the most boring day in the year with collecting schedules, meeting your new teachers, going over the whole year's plan, blah blah blah. I hadn't had the chance to speak properly with my friends until lunchtime. I found them sitting in a huddle at a table at the back of the busy cafeteria, laughing and joking together.

Smiling widely, I bounced over to them and stood to attention in front of them, saluting the girls. "Sakura Kinomoto, reporting for duty!" I said in my best gruff army general voice.

The other girls rolled their eyes good-naturedly at my antics. Rika stood grinning at me; her red-brown hair done in long waves, her eyes shining with a childish happiness that I found infectious. She wore tight blue quarter length jeans, white sandals and a light blue thin cotton top. "At ease, soldier!" she teased.

Behind her, Naoko managed to raise her eyes from a large textbook in her lap and smiled in way of greeting, her wire-framed glasses flashing in the light, before she buried her nose back into her book, her dark brown hair acting like a curtain to hide her face. She wore a long denim skirt with black boots and a white blouse.

Chiharu was sat beside Naoko and she waved at me with a little grin. Her brown hair was done in twisting bunches. She wore a preppy sweater with a tight top beneath it and a knee length lightweight skirt.

Once the greetings were done and dusted, I sat down next to Tomoyo and proceeded to dig through my bag for my lunch. I pulled out my Sandwiches triumphantly and began munching it and ignoring the incredulous stares the others were passing my way.

"Dude, I get all of your CD's," Rika said, shaking her head as I kept on shovelling down the sandwich, not even pausing to breathe or to wipe my mouth. Tomoyo watched in amazement, absently nibbling at her own sandwich.

She and Rika weren't the only ones watching me with a mixture of disgust and awe;

Naoko was intent and open-mouthed at the spectacle, while Chiharu wrinkled her nose in distaste, trying to look away and failing miserably.

What you have to understand is that the school doesn't like it when you bring your own food in, so it tends to get confiscated and probably eaten by the teachers or something. You have to eat it quickly before it's taken away from you or your forced to eat the crap they dish out here.

The cafeteria at Tomoeda High served very _unique_ food, which in most cases had adverse effects on the students' health. I had learned this within days of arriving.

The large room itself was a plain affair, and although it had a lunch line and salad bar, the teachers insisted that it be called the 'dining hall'. Ms. Frean, the headmistress,

had even seen to it that the tables and benches were arranged to make many small dining tables that sat eight students each. It was supposed to keep the students civilised when eating their dinners, but it hasn't stopped some colossal food frights from breaking out.

Although Tomoeda High School was a large, two-story school, with lockers, a gymnasium, "dining hall" and a common room, students were not permitted to loiter in any of these areas unless a teacher supervised them. They were not allowed to get their books from their lockers during the day, and the common room was locked to both the juniors and the seniors with the rare exception. The only place to go was the library, where you got kicked out if you said even one word, let alone laughed out loud.

And once you got past the stupid laws and rules, there were the teachers and classes to contend with. The first teacher to come to mind is Ms. Frean, who was known by all, and disliked by most. She was a stocky woman, with a squished nose, bleached blonde hair and always wore suits that were two sizes tow small for her. There's no point to trying to get on Ms. Frean's good side once her mind was made up. After an unfortunate problem with a faulty fire foam extinguisher that happened to spray its contents all over Ms. Frean while it was on my hand, she hasn't liked me since. Even when I had held the door open for her that morning, the woman had managed a snide, "I was right in thinking those detentions would do some good. You're already learning to be a better person, Sakura Kinomoto." Instead of trying to play the butt-kissing idiot, I worked out a system of avoiding the insufferable woman, which wasn't hard considering her voice could be heard carrying over the stairs as she lectured some poor unsuspecting junior.

As if it wasn't enough to have to listen to Frean tirade about school values on a personal basis, she was also in charge of the almost daily school assemblies and a special general instruction each week for each grade. It counted as a class and in it, she tried to indoctrinate them to the behaviour she wanted them to accustom themselves to.

Only one other teacher riled me as much as Frean did, and that was Mrs. Chambers, who was not only my math teacher, but taught the physical science class as well. It was obvious from the way the woman treated me during class, that like Frean, she was a first-impression type of person.

I finally looked up; getting bored with all of the stares "What?"

"Do you have a death wish?" Tomoyo asked.

"No, but I do have a math quiz third period after lunch," I replied matter-of-factly.

Rika frowned comically. "Point taken. Maybe I should have some of that too."

"With what you're eating, I'm surprised you haven't died yet," Naoko remarked, eying my sandwich warily. "That's disgusting."

"Hey, there is nothing wrong with a Gut-Buster!" I protested, taking a large bite out of said sandwich to prove my point, while making dramatic noises of content. Naoko made a face and looked away, only looking back again when I had swallowed. "Try some!"

The hazel-eyed girl shrank away when I offered her the sandwich, and shuddered. "Cheese, pickles and mustard do not make a sandwich."

"Sure they do!"

"Ignore her, Naoko doesn't eat anything but air," Chiharu mumbled.

"Not true! C'mon; look at it, it's revolting!"

"It's perfectly healthy," I rolled my eyes.

"How? It looks like a lethal chemical combo," Naoko remarked. "I'm surprised it doesn't come with a Bio-Hazard sticker." With a smirk, I picked apart my sandwich. "Stop it, that's gross!"

"I'm just trying to show you the basic health points," I grinned, gesturing in an over-dramatic way as I went over the dynamics of my sandwich. Beside me, Tomoyo and Rika were sniggering in amusement. "See, there are four basic food-groups-all in one sandwich! Pickles are veggies, the cheese covers dairy, the bread covers the grain, and --- "

I stopped talking as I suddenly felt the sandwich fly out of my hand in back of me somewhere. There was a muffled 'plop', a curse and a clatter behind me.

Wincing, I noticed the expressions on my friend's faces, slowly turning around to check out the damage I had caused.

The scene would have been funny if it hadn't been so serious.

Syaoran, who seemed to have been on his way past the teachers table to his own friends', stood as though he had been turned to stone, creamy white mushroom-rice surprise slopped all down his front to puddle both around his feet, and down the back of Ms. Frean's pantsuit. The woman was having a total meltdown, craning around trying to figure out where the stuff had been spilled on her. Syaoran, on the other hand, seemed to recover from his shock and had whipped his head around, eyes fastening on to my form.

"I'd run if I were you," Tomoyo's voice said from somewhere behind.

I nodded. "Way ahead of you."

I ducked down under the table, my face turning red. Feeling a giddy sense of mischief and fighting down a nervous giggle, I heard the sudden burst of laughter from all sides of the cafeteria. I crawled through the various pairs of legs at my table, intent on escaping from beneath and sprinting to the safety of the halls before either of my unwitting victims could catch up to me.

Wrenching myself from beneath the table, I was ready to run when the sound of someone clearing their throat above me made me look up and wince. Syaoran was leaning over me, glaring. The mushroom-rice surprise that was still drenching him was already beginning to become crusty on his clothing.

I'm not going to say anything remotely sexual about that, because this story has a rating of PG-13, but those of you with a dirty mind as I have will probably get it.

"Wow, what happened to you?" I asked innocently, feeling my face turning a darker red than before. I hoped he would take it as being out of breath and quickly stood up, hoping that the quick rush of air would cool my cheeks.

"Nice try, Princess," he said coldly, towering over me. "What did I tell you about not getting in my way?"

"Uh, not to?" I volunteered, my eyes flicking to Frean who was being aided by two teachers, fighting them off of her because they seemed to be obstacles in her intent to make it over towards us. "Why are we having a review of this? I didn't go anywhere near you or get in your way."

"It's not easy to miss your face in the crowd, mostly because of the interesting colour it is right now," My face flushed even darker at this. "Besides, I'm not blind, I saw you." He moved and for a moment I thought that he was going to walk away after just giving me a warning.

Definitely the wrong thought.

He had reached over casually and plucked a carton of milk off of Chiharu's plate, and before I knew what was happening, I felt a thick, gluttonous trickle dripping over my hair, down my neck and between my eyes and nose. He sent me a malicious look as I sputtered indignantly.

"I'm not going to be the only one walking around like this," he said, pressing the now empty carton into my hands. "But wait a sec…I have a change of clothes…"

Leaving me standing tensely in the middle of the cafeteria, my feet rooted to the ground, still noticing the slow _drip-drip_ of the milk down the bridge of my nose, Syaoran made his way towards the doors of the cafeteria.

"Well that was enlightening," I heard Rika say sarcastically under her breath, nearly unheard by all the laughter in the cafeteria.

I clenched my fists, dropping the carton and before I thought better of it, had snatched a chunk of bread from Chiharu's plate and lobbed it through the air, hitting Syaoran squarely in the back of the head.

"Miss Kinomoto!"

I winced, and slowly turned around to face the none-too-pleased headmistress, who was still covered in the remnants of the meal Syaoran had spilled on her and tapping her foot expectantly.

"I will see you in my office right now," the woman breathed, her nostrils flaring, and I nodded miserably.

Either God hates me or I have seriously bad karma.

**

* * *

To Be Continued…**

* * *

**Sky **(I strive to be creative, so it's nice that you enjoyed it), **dreamwish **(:head inflates: Your review had to be the best I got so far, my ego is fat and purring happily in the corner!), **nameless **(I hope it stays interesting for you!), **rockr-chick **(think you so much!), **hunter hatake **(here's the next instalment), **a hopeful dream **(the chapter is up… NOW!) **dbzgtfan2004 **(cute:strokes story: purr), **crimson eyed angel **(hope this is to your liking!), **darkazureblossom **(the change won't be too near in the future, I like putting the characters through abit more before it progresses), **mxc-the show- rocks my so… **(I hope so!), **AnonymousT **(I wanted him to be a lovable little boy and then be so transformed without Sakura's friendship to bring at his cute and cuddly side. Hopefully that little boy will be back soon!), **Tella **(thank you!), **Lady ski **(Thank you very much, your English is better than mine and enjoy the show!), (a chapter fo you, as ordered!), **iheartrainbows **(I hope chapter one meets your expectations), **demonicangel23 **(Thank you, I aim to please!), **amy0110 **(I would have liked to have updated sooner but because of your review, and everyone else's, I wanted to make sure it was good. What do you think?), **anonymous **(I love it that you love it!), **sparkly faerie **(I like cliché plots too, their my secret fetish!), **kitty-euphoria **(I'm glad you took the time to check my story out. It's so hard to write a summary that doesn't sound pathetic and you only have a small space to do it in. It was my first time so I'll blame it on the inexperience!), **wekissinmydreams **(I know, if the first chapter doesn't grab me then I won't bother reading the rest. I picture Syaoran as he is in the series; he still has the same messy brown hair but no eyeliner. Not all punks wear it. You'll understand more about him as the story goes on. Underneath all that 'non-conformist I-hate-all-preps' façade is a sweet guy whose hurt that his best friend sought friendship somewhere else), **vcChick **(thank you! Their going to have to go a long way before they become friends but it's going to be fun getting there!), **aan **(I hope its good during the whole story), **ISAKI **(Thank you, I will try to update frequantely! I love stories between preps and punks because of the whole hostile relationship. I have prep friends even though I'm classed as a 'punk' and we laugh at how people tend to be surprised that we can stand each other), **0xoox0friendless0xoox0 **(thank you!), **chibisakuRahime **(I'm glad you liked it), **teddiebearz **(what can I say, I'm a neat freak!), **selina-m **(I aim to please!), **nannie-san **(I loved your review, I tend to go over board with descriptions but I'm glad you liked it), **sillysinny **(it had to be sad. I think it's the saddest thing when two friends drift apart), **basil **(why thank you!)

Don't forget to read and review!


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